Page 11 of Love Harder

It was a nice change as my previous “relationship” left me questioning whoIwas in the end. But not with Ghost.

He always told me I was beautiful. Or that he missed me. Without fail, he asked how my day was going. He was a sweetheart, a sweetheart with a filthy mouth because we just wanted another one more and more.

It was insane. Our chemistry left me breathless.

His passion left bruises, bruises which I asked for, and when I sent him a picture, his response, such an alpha:

I see I did some damage; consider it my way of marking you.

I couldn’t wait to see him again.

The messages he sent were so fun and heartfelt and so damn HOT!

I like telling my girl what to do and ordering her around just before I put her in her place.

YES FUCKING PLEASE!

The morning of our date, however, Ghost texted me and did the unexpected:

Good morning, gorgeous. I’m sorry this is such a late reply! I’ve been absolutely flat out. I didn’t catch a break yesterday. I’m okay. Just overwhelmed this week! We might need to push the mojitos. I’m sorry ?

I didn’t know what to think. Had I been wrong about him this entire time? I refused to believe it, but this wasn’t good.

My insecurities threatened to drag me under, and I was afraid I would surely drown this time. But Ghost knew me better than I thought when he sent a quick follow-up message.

And please don’t overthink or get triggered. I’m here. Just busy, sadly. I miss you so much.

I had told him about my triggers and how I overthink. And he knew this would happen by postponing. But he put my mind at ease immediately.

He came back a few moments later, again to prove he wasn’t canceling altogether.

Postpone till next Friday? All the drinks on me!

Okay, this was good. He was giving me an alternative date. He wasn’t blowing me off, right?

The thing about an overthinker is that we are our own worst enemies. People tell us to calm down. Stop overthinking. Well, if we could, we would. But we can’t. We want more than anythingnot to overthink, to trust and not make ourselves sick with worry, but it’s not that easy.

Overthinkers need good communicators, and Ghost was just that. But this still got me feeling out of sorts. The harder we try to calm down, the worse things become.

And this was what happened.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I don’t need enemies. I don’t need someone telling me I’m stupid or worthless and don’t have a lick of talent because I tell myself this every single day. So when the boy I was falling for canceled our first proper date, these thoughts screamed so loudly that I had to cover my ears and shut out the noise.

But the noise was in my head. And it was getting louder and louder, so fucking loud that I couldn’t breathe.

And when someone can’t breathe, they panic. I thought he didn’t like me. That I was making a fool out of myself. That he had lost interest and was too nice to say it.

And the message I sent reflected exactly that:

Have things cooled down? I felt like I knew what you wanted when we first started talking. I felt confident you wanted me as much as I wanted you. You were as hooked on me as I was on you. You were thinking about me all the time as I was with you. And you persisted to come see me every chance you got. Now, I don’t really know. I LOVE that you’re career-focused and ambitious. And that always comes first. But if you have no time for yourself, then how will you have time for me? And I would never expect you to. If I don’t feel wanted, I will run away. I can’t help it. Wish I could change it. I hope I haven’tfucked anything up. I hope you still want to kiss. Sorry, am just thinking aloud.

This right here is inside the exasperating mind of an overthinker.

It doesn’t make sense, but it does to me. I didn’t see the fact he gave me reassurance and love. All I saw was him sayingno, I don’t want to see you. My scars are that deep and often prohibit me from seeing past the pain.

And when I am scared or in pain, I run.

I often get asked why I run for fun. And the answer is, the farther I run, the harder I push myself. I often feel as though I am running away from my trauma, and for a sliver in time, I can breathe. The voices quieten, and I feel at peace with my head and my heart.

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